


but it's tradition, princess

by ayselz



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, MERRY FUCKING CRISIS, and yes, humanverse au, in which raivis is a lovesick pup, this is my otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayselz/pseuds/ayselz
Summary: "Raivis wrapped his arms around her and she adjusted her position slightly so she was snugly fit against him, the crevices and spaces between his limbs adequately filled by her. He breathed her in, closing his eyes as he thought to himself that maybe breaking tradition wasn’t so bad, after all?"





	but it's tradition, princess

Christmas day was _their_ day. Neither Raivis nor Natalya had strong Catholic beliefs anymore—though Raivis could clearly remember religiously attending Mass with his siblings when he was younger, his childhood innocence allowing him to put his faith blindly onto higher powers—but they still celebrated the holiday all the same. It was because almost all of the significant moments of their relationship coincided with Christmas; so while they didn’t celebrate the day for religious reasons anymore, the novelty of celebrating it as a day of their own would never wear off.

Their yearly tradition was simple: he’d close the studio early, pick up groceries on his way home, oftentimes a custom-made bouquet of ox-eyed daisies and blue flax flowers as well, and then he would set up the kitchen as he waited for his wife to come home. They would bake raisin cookies together, trade stories in quiet, contented tones, then they would exchange gifts before the day ended.

Raivis could never ask for more, if he was going to be honest.

Currently he was meticulously taking out the dry ingredients from the grocery bag, keeping an eye on the wall clock as he went about arranging their kitchen. It was nearly 7 PM, which meant that Natalya was coming home soon. Sometimes she would text him if an emergency at the hospital came up and she needed to stay there longer, but seeing as there was no text today, Raivis took it as a sign that she was already packing up.

The thought of seeing his wife again after almost a day of not seeing her, never failed to make his heart race and for a smile to make its way on his face. His siblings used to tease him about it, calling him _whipped_ and _head over heels_ good-naturedly, and Raivis never denied the accusations. He thought of himself a simple man: he loved Natalya, and she always made him happy. If him giving his freelance photography job up and instead opening a small studio so he could stay in the same city she stayed in didn’t give that away clearly, then Raivis would be more than happy to prove his affection in other ways.

His phone lit up from above the counter. Raivis’ already-wide grin grew a fraction wider as he almost made a headfirst dive in order to pick it up. _Will be late. See you._ Something must have come up last minute and now she was rushing to attend to it, that’s why her text was short. He didn’t worry. More time for him to spice up their humble little place, then!

After making sure that the ingredients, both dry and wet, and the necessary baking tools, were prepared and no shuffling to retrieve anything later would be done further, Raivis moved on to the living room. It was sparsely decorated, just some colored Christmas lights hung on their whitewashed walls and the tree standing in a corner, as he and Natalya didn’t particularly have the time to go for more elaborate decorations. What matters most, he thought to himself as he plugged in the lights, was that they both enjoyed the whole decorating process—a few stolen hours from their miraculously coinciding free time, spent more in chasing each other around the apartment and lobbing tinsel and Christmas balls at one another rather than doing any actual decorating.

He put the flowers he had bought inside a vase filled with water. He fed their pet goldfish. No more texts from Natalya came, so Raivis decided to grab the broom and the duster and clean up a little.

Minutes—or hours, he lost track of time—later, he woke up to someone poking him on the shoulder lightly. A curtain of platinum blonde hair fell against his face, tickling his cheek.

“Princess,” he said sleepily, reaching up to her face. She leaned into his touch, smiling tiredly down at him.

“Merry Christmas, Raivis.” He hummed his reply to that, and they both fell silent afterwards. The colored lights framed her form; he could faintly smell the strawberry-flavored shampoo she always used, underneath the stronger stench of alcohol and _hospital._

He propped himself up on his elbows. “Come on, let’s start baking? We’ll still have time for presents later.”

Natalya’s expression changed. Gone was the wistful smile, instead replaced with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Raivis was fully sitting up now, reaching towards her.

Unlike earlier, when she willingly let him touch her, Natalya flinched away from him this time. Raivis’ brows furrowed. “Nothing’s wrong,” she replied in a clipped tone. Years of knowing her meant that Raivis knew when she was simply exhausted, or when she was trying to avoid a conversation. This was certainly of the latter. “I just don’t feel like baking today, that’s all. Can’t we just, I don’t know, cuddle and watch something?”

 _But it’s tradition, princess, and the ingredients are all neatly prepared in the kitchen,_ he wanted to say, but instead Raivis smiled, made room for her on the couch. Fortunately he’d grown taller than her over the years—though Raivis would never deny that their height difference was what drew him to Natalya first—so it was easy for her to lie on top of him now.

Raivis wrapped his arms around her and she adjusted her position slightly so she was snugly fit against him, the crevices and spaces between his limbs adequately filled by her. He breathed her in, closing his eyes as he thought to himself that maybe breaking tradition wasn’t so bad, after all?

“I got you something good,” he said into her hair, his lips forming a smile once more. “Saw that your work shoes were getting worn out, so I got you new ones.” This was part of tradition, too, talking about their gifts for one another before they opened them. Frankly Raivis considered Natalya to be the best gift he has ever received in his life, especially when she said yes to him two Christmases ago, and while he has repeatedly reiterated that to her, she still got him elaborately thought of gifts all the same.

“That’s very nice, Raivis.” She lifted her face to stare at him, eyes filled with a swirl of emotions he couldn’t exactly decipher. “I don’t think you’ll appreciate my gift very much, but…”

“Anything you give me will be more than good, princess,” he reassured her quickly.

Natalya didn’t cry often. Probably working in an environment where suffering and death were commonplace has toughened up, but she didn’t cry over the trivial matters, the polar opposite of Raivis himself, who cried very easily. She didn’t cry when her brother got married, didn’t cry when their first pet died, didn’t cry over tear-jerking movies.

So it was alarming for Raivis when she began crying, violent sobs and loud, heaving gasps for air.

“Natalya? What’s wrong?” he squeaked, an odd habit of his when he was worried, fingers finding purchase in wiping her tears away.

She shook her head at him, still in tears. It made his heart ache. “I’m sorry, Raivis,” she said finally, once she found her voice again.

His breathing stalled for a moment, expression drawing into a concerned frown. “What? Why? Did you mess your gift up? It’s okay, princess. I told you, no gifts needed when it comes to me. You’re the best—”

“I’m not,” she replied icily, pushing herself off of him. She stayed seated on the other end of the couch, wiping her own tears aggressively with her palms. “I’m not the best thing to happen in your life. Maybe then, yes, I was, but now…just, no. I don’t deserve you. You deserve better.”

“You can’t decide that for yourself, Nat. These are my feelings we’re talking about, remember? I think I know it better, even just a little, than you do.” Natalya had always talked him gently throughout his panic attacks and mental break downs before. Raivis thought that the same strategy would work out for her. “Come on, princess, tell me what’s wrong?”

She reached into her pocket. Handed him a very familiar velvet box.

Raivis’ vision blurred as tears began to form in his eyes. “This isn’t…” Still, despite the shaking of his hands, he managed to open it. The ring looked the same as it did when he bought it from the store, deciding that it would be the small band to promise Natalya to himself for life. “Wow. Merry Christmas to me,” he breathed, “I swear, princess, if this is a prank and Raina’s waiting somewhere here to jump out with streamers or something, I’d give you both the cold shoulder for a week.” He was speaking through tears, unable to wipe them as his gaze was transfixed on the tiny encrusted diamonds, all reflecting the glow of the colored lights.

He heard her take a shaky breath. “It’s not, Raivis. I’m so sorry. It’s stupid, I know, but I’m giving you another shot at happiness. Your dreams. Freedom.” He looked up to meet her gaze. Red-cheeked and with snot running from her nose, the toll of her shifts evident on the bags under her eyes, Natalya still looked beautiful.

Raivis thought that he would always find her beautiful.

He asked the first thing which came to mind: “Is there someone else?”

Her gaze softened, and she let out a tiny bark of laughter. His chest swelled at the sound; he longed to throw the ring box away and pull her into his arms again. “It’s always been you, Rai.”

Raivis closed his eyes. “Please, just say yes. Even if it’s a lie. It hurts more to know that you’ve stopped loving me, more than knowing that you’ve fallen for someone else.”

“I can’t ever lie to you, you know that.”

He closed the ring box, let it fall on the couch. In his mind he could see, clear as day, the way Natalya’s eyes sparkled when he gave that same ring box to her as a gift and then promptly asked for her hand in marriage. Raivis wondered, where did it begin to fall apart?

Why didn’t he notice the changes?

“Nicholas is offering me a place to stay.” So her siblings already knew, he thought rather bitterly, but kept both his mouth and his eyes shut. “This place is yours anyway, you should keep it. But I’ll take the goldfish…”

She talked to him more, sufficiently filling the silence with her voice. It was mostly a speech of gratitude, thanking him for all of his sacrifices and for putting up with her through the years, for never giving up on her. It was also a speech of apologies, Natalya regretting the opportunities he has missed when he settled down with her, the dreams he let fly away just to be with her. She told him that, no, it was not his fault; it was her built-up guilt finally tipping over and consuming her fully, and, yes, she’d already thought it over. Many times.

It was the most he has ever heard Natalya talk in the full course of their—now ending—relationship, and he guessed that it was probably a final parting gift of sorts. God knows he would miss her voice so much.

Time rolled on. By the time Raivis opened his eyes, he found it difficult to adjust to the sudden glare of lights. Natalya was nowhere in sight anymore, yet her strawberry scent still filled the room. Raivis still hoped that this was a dream, and he would wake up later to his wife whining at him to get started on the first batch of raisin cookies right away, for she was hungry, and it was Christmas.

Christmas was their day.

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY.


End file.
